


the warmth in your eyes swept me into your arms

by reindeerjumper



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: (at least in my dreams), Blow Jobs, Car Accidents, Established Relationship, F/M, Porn With Plot, Shower Sex, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 09:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12981462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reindeerjumper/pseuds/reindeerjumper
Summary: Cormoran has a bit of a run-in with a phone pole. Robin comes to the rescue.Chapter 2 turned a bit smutty, soooo, yeah...





	1. as the winter winds litter london with lonely hearts

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this with the idea that Cormoran and Robin had been together for about a year. A huge shout out to @LindMea for being an endless source of knowledge & for flailing with me when the mood hits! Title & chapter titles are from Mumford & Son's "Winter Winds".

As Cormoran stood on the side of the road and looked at the damage done to the Land Rover, he couldn’t help the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

Robin had entrusted him with the Land Rover to do some surveillance right outside of London. She had dangled the keys in front of her face from behind her desk, a smirk on her lips as Cormoran exasperatedly snatched them from her grip. 

“Make sure you take care of it,” she had quipped, turning back to her computer screen.

“You know I will,” he had replied. 

“And don’t be late. They’re playing  _ White Christmas _ at ten on the BBC.”

It was then Cormoran’s turn to smirk as he pocketed the keys. Leaning over the desk, he planted a kiss on the top of Robin’s head as she continued to work on the computer. He dragged one of his hands down the length of her hair before giving her shoulder a squeeze. She was now looking up at him, a pretty flush across her cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes. 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Cormoran said. He had given her a noncommittal wave before heading out the door. 

Now he stood in quickly accumulating snow on the side of a dark road somewhere between London and Surrey. He had been tailing a suspect they’d recently taken on--the man’s wife had come to Cormoran and Robin with suspicions that he was up to some illegal activity. The woman had seemed nice enough, and sincere in her accusations. Apparently she had gone to the police with her suspicions, but they had blown her off, which led her to Cormoran. 

The suspect had left the pub that Cormoran knew he’d be at an hour ago, slipping and sliding on the roads in his ill-equipped sports car. Cormoran had kept a healthy distance from him, noting the turns that he made and the direction he was headed. He also had a few photos on his phone from the pub--he was planning on sending them to Robin later so she could file them away. 

The snow that had been lazily drifting in the sky when he left the outskirts of London had built up into a white wall. He could barely see in front of the Land Rover as wind drove the snow into his windscreen. Cormoran could feel his palms sweating against the leather of the steering wheel as he hunched forward in an attempt to keep his eyes on the bobbing red lights of the suspect’s car in front of him.

In a split second, as the suspect was making a left-hand turn, an unidentified animal ran out into the road and Cormoran lost control of the Land Rover. He veered left, but the traction of the tires had a different idea. They caught on a patch of ice and the vehicle spun out, eventually slamming into a telephone pole with a sickening crunch. 

Cormoran had survived the blow with nary a scrape, but the Land Rover was a different story. After turning off the engine and double checking himself for any injuries, Cormoran shakily get out of the car and stood in the blinding snow to try and assess the damage. The whole front end of the SUV was smashed in and hissing out steam into the night sky. It was creaking and groaning in its death throes, and Cormoran gave the front tire a swift kick in anger. 

The snow was whipping around him and snagging at the ends of his coattails. He hunkered down a bit further into the scarf he was wearing, shoving his hands into his pockets as he searched up and down the dark lane for any kind of headlights. It was late, and with the weather what it was, it seemed that everyone was in for the evening.

Cormoran dragged a hand down his face before climbing back into the vehicle. With the engine disengaged, he threw caution to the wind and assumed that nothing terrible would happen if he sought refuge in the lingering heat of the car. Fingers already numb from the storm outside, Cormoran shakily pulled his cell out of his pocket and punched at the screen until he found Robin’s name.

After a few rings, he heard her voice on the other end.

“Everything alright?” she greeted him.

He huffed a laugh before saying, “Define ‘alright.’”

“Corm, what happened?”

“An...animal jumped out in front of me while I was driving. Tried my damndest to avoid it, but I ended up catching a bit of black ice and, well...I’m a bit stranded.”

“Are you alright?” He could hear the panic mounting in Robin’s voice, and he knew she was probably pacing around his flat, the mug of tea she probably made forgotten on the table.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Don’t worry.” He took a steadying breath. “I can’t say the same for the Land Rover, though.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before he continued. 

“I’m so sorry, Robin. I don’t know if there’s any saving it.”

He could hear the jingling of keys on the other end, and the rustling of fabric. Robin’s voice came back, on gritted and muffled, as if something were in her mouth.

“Where are you?”

Cormoran looked back out the window, trying to gauge exactly where he was. 

“Just outside of London. Rent-a-Crook left the pub and was headed back towards Bracknell. I couldn’t tell you exactly where I am. Somewhere just off the M3 near Heathrow.”

“Have you called the police?” Robin now sounded short of breath, as if she had been wrangling a ferocious animal or a toddler of equal tenacity. 

“No, no, I don’t want to get them involved. They blew this case off and if they found out that I was in pursuit of a suspect, they’d eat me alive. I just wanted to let you know. I’ll call a tow truck or something...don’t wait up for me.” 

Even as the words fell out of his mouth, Cormoran knew that Robin wouldn’t idly sit by.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Stay right where you are. What junction did you get off at?”

“Three,” he replied. He knew there was no arguing with her. She’d either call the tow truck herself or somehow assemble a troupe of huskies to guide her through the snowstorm to get to him. 

“Three. Got it. If you need anything, call me. Love you.” Without another word, Robin hung up.

Cormoran brought the phone from his ear and stared at the now blank screen with a sense of discomfort. In the back of his mind, he had known that Robin would jump to action if he called her. What “jumping to action” entailed, though, was a bit of a mystery.

Not wanting to dwell on all of the possibilities that Robin could come up with, Cormoran busied himself with looking out the passenger side window. The snow was dipping and curling in thick, mesmerizing whorls. He could see his breath already starting to puff in front of his face as he slowly breathed in and out, trying to calm the thumping of his heart in his chest. 

Now that he had assessed the situation and spoken to Robin, the adrenaline that had been holding off came in a rushing surge. He suddenly felt very shaky and weak, and his heartbeat felt erratic. 

“Get it together, Strike. Come on,” he muttered to himself, trying to concentrate on the drift of snow that was off to the right of the Land Rover. He took a few more steadying breaths as he flexed his fingers out and in. Slowly, his heart rate started to even out as the electric currents coursing through his nerve endings petered away. 

With a shaky breath, he slumped down in the driver’s seat, bending his head back onto the headrest. Keeping his eyes closed, Cormoran counted ten steady breaths. He felt better. Rummaging around in his pocket, he found his pack of cigarettes and lighter. With deft movements, he extracted a cigarette and placed it between his lips, relishing the heat from the flame of the butane as it flickered near his face. He took a fortifying drag and let the smoke leave his lips in a measured, slow-paced breath. 

Now that he was calmer, he was able to look around him with clearer eyes. It was a very rural area, and the large expanse of the sky was hued an inky purple. In the distance, he could see the lights of Heathrow Airport shining like a beacon. It was brighter than it normally was at this hour, the snow reflecting any light it could find back up into the sky. The snow was starting to wane, and it was almost serene the way it was now drifting. He could see it in huge piles in front of the Land Rover, and it was hanging heavy on branches on the trees nearby. 

The heat trapped inside of the car was slowly dissipating, and Cormoran was having a harder time distinguishing the smoke from his cigarette from his own breath in front of him. The cold air was making his nose start to run, and he swiped the back of his hand across the lower half of his face to try and stem some of the flow. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, shifting in the driver’s seat. He wasn’t sure how long it would take Robin to get to him--or for whoever she sent to get to him--and the temperature was rapidly falling. His shoes were completely soaked through from standing in the snow, and the sock on his one good foot was cold and damp inside of the leather. He could only assume the other was the same.

Cormoran knew that Robin was one of the most well-prepared people he knew. A little over a year into their romantic relationship--longer if you considered their professional relationship, too--and Cormoran was still being blindsided by her resourcefulness. Robin could research the pants off of him, and on more than one occasion, she used some kind of witchcraft to get blood out of his clothes. She was a wonderful actress if a situation called for it, and she always somehow managed to make them delicious meals out of the meager options in his fridge. 

“She must have a blanket somewhere in here,” he muttered to himself, looking into the rearview mirror. 

There was a shadowy pile in the boot. Lighting a new cigarette off of the other one, Cormoran took a deep drag on it before opening the door to the elements. A gust of wind blew into his face as he shut the door behind him, and the freshly fallen snow crunched under his shoes as he made his way to the back of the Land Rover. His cigarette flickered in the wind, a bright flash of orange that evened back out to ash.

Inside the boot was a first aid kit, a torch, a basket of dirty laundry that Robin intended to do the next day, a box of things from her and Matthew’s old flat that she hadn’t taken out of the car yet, and two perfectly folded tartan blankets. Cormoran couldn’t help the relieved smile that crossed his face. He snatched both blankets from the boot, slammed the door shut, and quickly hurried back to the driver’s side door. 

Settling back into the seat, Cormoran unfolded one of the blankets and wrapped it around his lower half, tucking the ends underneath him and shoving it between his legs. The other one he wrapped around his shoulders, pulling it tightly in front of him while the cigarette he was smoking dangled precariously from his mouth.

It wasn’t great, but it was better than nothing. Part of him wanted to take out his phone and watch some of the footy match (or at least check the score), but his phone had been low on battery when he called Robin and he didn’t want to chance it dying completely before she got there. Finishing his cigarette, he opened the door a crack and flicked it out into the snowstorm. The dying embers disappeared into the frozen night, and Cormoran immediately missed the rush of nicotine in his lungs. 

He missed Robin, too. He missed her warmth, and her laugh, and he even missed the way she curled up next to him when she forced him to watch movies like  _ White Christmas. _ Granted, he usually dozed off during those movies, but her warm weight against his side usually dragged his eyes shut before he could fight it. 

These thoughts didn’t help how utterly frozen he was. His nose was just a steady leak at this point, and he couldn’t help the sniffling and snuffling he was doing to try and contain it. His breath was a puff of frozen air in front of his face, and he heavily considered lighting another cigarette to try and gain some heat. All of his toes in the soaked sock were essentially small icicles, and he would occasionally wiggle them to try and gain some feeling.

“If I lose this fucking foot to frostbite…” He trailed off, trying not to focus on it.

A few moments passed as the snow outside continued to slow down. The roads were probably murderous at this point, and the thought of Robin potentially driving all the way down the M3 by herself made him uncomfortable.  _ She doesn’t have a car, though,  _ he rationalized. The thought made him feel a little better, but not entirely.

Suddenly, from down the lane, a pair of headlights came into view. Perking up, Cormoran leaned forward in his seat to try and see if it was a tow truck. The lights were slowing down as they approached him, but it wasn’t a tow truck. It was a beautiful, black Volvo SUV. The snow was just flurries at this point, the night illuminated just enough for him to see a flash of golden red hair in the passenger side of the SUV.

The Volvo drove past him, but he knew that hair. Quickly, he shed the blankets that he had cocooned himself in and threw the door open. Stumbling out of the car, he headed towards the roadside, his arms thrown over his head as he shouted, “Oi!” into the darkness. The brake lights of the SUV lit up a way down the lane, and to Cormoran’s relief, he saw the white of the reverse lights turn on as the Volvo started to make its way back to him.

Cormoran stood on the roadside, his frozen hands shoved into his pockets as he shifted from foot-to-prosthetic in the hopes to gain some feeling back in his good foot. The Volvo was just a stone’s throw away, and Cormoran could definitely see the pale, frightened face of Robin in the mirror. He tried to give her a brave smile as his shoulders and hair became dusted with snow. Nose still running, he gave a valiant sniffle before the Volvo came to stop in front of him.

Cormoran watched as the passenger side of the car came to a stop in front of him, and Robin threw the door open. The interior light of the Volvo illuminated the inside of the car and the road around it, and Cormoran caught sight of Shanker’s mischievous grin from the driver’s seat.

“Robin,” he breathed as she ran towards him. She had on a heavy black peacoat with a thick tartan scarf around her neck. On top of her head perched a knit tam beret in a shade of green that Cormoran knew probably made her hair look redder than it actually was. The thought made him smile.

Before he could apologize or greet her, Robin catapulted herself into Cormoran’s arms, wrapping her own around his neck as she claimed his mouth with her own. Instinctively, Cormoran brought his own hands up to her waist, pulling her into him as he felt her assault his face with kisses.

“Robin, love, easy,” he laughed. “I’m dripping snot.” He pulled back to look at her, cradling her cold-flushed cheek in one of his frozen hands. Swiping his thumb back and forth across the bone of her cheek, he smiled softly down at her and said, “I’m fine.”

Tears were now glistening in her eyes as she looked up at him, her mouth a stubborn line as she tried to hold them back. 

“You’re a fucking idiot,” she said. “Scared the daylights out of me.” She was now holding his large hands in her own mittened ones, and Cormoran tried not think about how warm it felt against his fingers. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Really, I feel like a complete tit about it.” He glanced behind him to look at the Land Rover. “I know you loved the car, but I don’t know if there’s any saving it.”

“Sod the car,” she replied. “I could care less about it. Insurance can cover the damage. I’m just glad you’re alright.” She leaned up again to kiss his cheek, and Cormoran felt himself blush. 

“We’ll leave it here,” she continued. “Get in the car. In the front, where the heated seat is.” She had dropped his hands and was now walking back towards the Volvo, gesturing towards the open front passenger-side door as she did so.

Cormoran was speechless. Instead of trying to formulate a response, he trudged over to the idling car and kicked his feet against the front tire to dislodge the snow that had gotten stuck. The heat from the vents blew directly into his face, and he felt the sharp snap of it against his cheeks. The seat was already warm, and he pressed the button on the dashboard to make it go a bit warmer. He savored the heat cutting through the fabric of his pants and jacket.

“Bunsen,” Shanker said, giving him a crooked grin.

“Do I even want to know how you got this car?” Cormoran replied.

“Probably better to not mention it,” Shanker replied as he shifted gears. “Put on your seatbelt now like a good lad. Let’s get you home.”

Cormoran didn’t argue. He simply clicked the buckle into place and slumped down into the leather seat as Shanker navigated them back towards London.

 

 


	2. for every kiss your beauty trumped my doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for why this escalated so smuttily, but I'm not complaining. Hopefully you won't either ;P

They had gotten back to London in record time, thanks to Shanker’s driving. He had dropped them off on the curb, waving at them both with wiggly fingers and equally wiggly eyebrows before peeling off down the street in the opposite direction of his own flat. Cormoran watched the tail lights on the Volvo disappear around a corner before turning back to Robin and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She responded by bringing her own arm around his waist and putting her head on his shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” she had murmured.

“Thanks for saving me,” Cormoran had responded as he held the door to the building open for her. 

“Anything for you, Corm, you know that.”

Once inside the flat, Robin helped Cormoran undress. His soaked shoes had been left at the door, and his fingers were still numb from the cold outside. He watched with fond eyes as Robin unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off of his shoulders, followed by the unbuttoning of his fly. His pants dropped with a soft _thump_ , and he stepped out of them gingerly. Robin swept them up with the discarded shirt and threw them in the clothes hamper before turning back to him.

Cormoran had dropped onto the edge of the bed, a defeated, tired slant to his shoulders. Robin slotted herself between his legs before lowering her head to place a kiss on the crown of curls atop his head. His hands braced themselves on the sides of her thighs as she ran soothing circles along his scalp with her fingers. Cormoran dropped his head against her stomach, enjoying her ministrations.

Soon, Robin took a step back and knelt in front of him. Cormoran’s eyes widened a fraction as he looked down at her, and she laughed.

“I’m just taking off your socks,” she had said with a smirk. “They’re soaked.”

She peeled off each sock, throwing them in the direction of the clothes hamper. He watched her in silent admiration as she then busied herself with his prosthesis. It wasn’t something Cormoran let _anyone_ do before Robin, but he trusted her completely and actually found himself comforted in the attention she was giving him. 

With deft fingers, she had pressed the release button and unbuckled the straps on it as if it were her own. Something warm and heavy sat in Cormoran’s chest as he watched Robin gently tug on the prosthesis until it finally gave way with a quiet _pop._ She placed it on the floor next to the bed and slid off the gel liner that covered his stump, smoothing it out before putting it next to his leg.

Robin then stood up, her hands on her hips and a smile on her face. An errant piece of hair was falling into her face as she looked down at him, and he wanted to push it off of her face and kiss her breathless.

“Shower?” she had said then, pushing the tendril off of her face before he had a chance.

“Um, yeah...yeah, that sounds good,” he had muttered. “I’ll meet you in there?”

“If you want,” she had said with a smirk.

She left his crutch leaning against the mattress before disappearing into the bathroom. He took a deep breath before discarding his undershirt and boxers. Steadying himself on the crutch, Cormoran hobbled from the bed into the bathroom where steam was already billowing out of the doorway. He saw Robin’s clothes in a pile on the floor, and he felt himself grow hard at the sight. He shook his head to try and dispel the urge. 

Leaving the crutch leaned against the wall, Cormoran opened the curtain to find Robin standing underneath the warm stream of water. Her skin was a delicious shade of pink from the heat, and he admired the way the water was running down her body as she blinked at him. A smile cut across her face before she held out her hand for him. 

Gratefully, Cormoran took her hand and gingerly hopped into the shower. It was crowded and tight, but it gave him every excuse to press his body against hers as he relished the way the heat from the shower seeped into every part of his body that the heated seat of the Volvo couldn’t reach. 

Robin stepped closer into his vicinity, snaking her arms around his waist as she looked up at him. The water had plastered her hair to her head, the wetness making it look darker than it usually did. Droplets of water clung to her eyelashes and pooled on her collarbone. Cormoran had always thought her beautiful, but there was something mystical and otherworldly about her when she was naked and wet in his shower. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, leaning forward to claim her mouth with his. He kissed her thoroughly, making up for the abrupt halt of her kisses out in the snow. He felt her hand come up and cup his jaw, the other enclosing his cock. Cormoran groaned at the sensation. “Fuck,” he muttered, his mouth only millimeters from hers. 

At this, Robin smirked. The shower was tiny and crowded, but it was big enough to allow _some_ movement. She kissed him swiftly once more before trailing her fingers down his chest, her nails running tracks in the thatch of hair on his chest. Cormoran watched her in silent reverence as she knelt in front of him, and he put one hand on the tiled shelves in the shower and the other hand on the towel bar outside the curtain to brace himself. 

Robin took his hardened cock in her mouth, and Cormoran couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath that escaped him. His knee wobbled a bit, trying to collapse and hold him up at the same time as he felt the velvet of Robin’s tongue slide up and down. She closed her lips around him and took him entirely into her mouth, the back of her throat brushing against the tip of his cock.

“Fuck,” he grunted, trying to balance himself. “Fuck, Robin.”

He could feel her smile around him as her hand came up to give his arse cheek a squeeze. Her mouth slid up and down his length, her tongue gently teasing the underside of his cock and swirling at the tip each time she reached it. Cormoran rolled his head back, staring at the ceiling as the hot water from the shower pummeled him in the chest. Robin’s hand was still massaging into the cheek of his arse, and her other hand had come up to cup his testicles. He groaned at the sensation.

Dropping his head down, he looked at Robin kneeling in front of him and felt his knee buckle again. She was perfect, all porcelain skin tinged pink, with a smattering of freckles on her shoulders. The water was glistening on her skin, rivulets running down her spine as she pumped her mouth back and forth against him. He wanted to touch her, feel her hair in his hands and that beautiful skin under his fingertips.

Cormoran braced his knee to take his hand off of the towel rod. Gently, he placed his fingers against her temple, stopping her ministrations. Robin pulled her mouth off of him, and Cormoran immediately missed the contact. She looked up at him, her eyes blinking in the spray from the shower and her lips swollen and red. Cormoran gulped at the sight.

“Robin, love, I have to sit. I want to touch you, feel you…”

Robin’s eyes widened at this statement, and he could see the embarrassment flash across her face at the realization. “Oh God, Corm, I’m so sorry,” she said quickly, standing up to help steady him. He was rock hard between them, an awkward reminder of what had just happened as she gently helped him sit on the tile floor of the shower. He slid down the wall, finally settling on the far end of the shower so that the water from the showerhead was now soaking his lower half. He ran a hand down his face, trying to wipe some of the water out of his eyes as he looked up at Robin.

She was illuminated by the overhead light, a siren standing in his shower. Both of his hands were now on the shower floor, holding him up as he watched her slowly lower herself onto his lap. They both let out a breathy sigh of relief as they made contact. Robin was warm and wet around him, sending an electric current from his cock to all of his outer limbs. 

Cormoran lifted his hands from the floor to cradle Robin’s cheeks in his hands, pulling her in to kiss every inch of her mouth. His tongue explored her mouth as she thrusted against him, her own fingers tangled in his hair. Cormoran brought his good leg up to give her something to gain leverage against, and he could feel her arse cheeks pressing against his thigh as she gyrated against his hips.

“I love you,” he said, pulling away to look her in the eye.

She blushed at this. Her hair was matted against her head, the ends of it creating wet scrollwork against her shoulders and chest. The water had caused her eyelashes to melt together, creating tiny, Twiggy-like spikes that gave her eyes the illusion of being bigger, softer. Her long fingers now disentangled themselves from Cormoran’s hair and settled on his face. A smile spread across her lips.

“I love you so fucking much,” he continued.

“I love you, too,” she whispered before leaning forward and kissing the breath out of his lungs.

As Robin continued to grind her hips against his, Cormoran brought his hand down between them and pressed his thumb against her clit. He felt her gasp against his mouth, her head lolling back as he continued to rub soft, tantalizing circles against her. His other hand, unbidden, cupped her arse cheek and gave it a healthy squeeze. Even with her head tilted towards the ceiling, Cormoran could see the smile cut across her face. He smiled, too.

Robin leaned forward and mouthed a bruising kiss against Cormoran’s neck, low enough that it wouldn’t be seen once he was clothed. He hissed at the sensation, bringing his hand from her arse to her breast and rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. With her mouth so close to his ear, the sound of her gasp sent him into overdrive.

Using his bent leg as leverage, he bucked himself up into Robin’s warmth, feeling her clench around him as she panted his name into his ear. He brought his hands to her hips, holding her in place as his thrusts became more and more stuttered.

“Fuck, Robin, oh, fuck,” he muttered, pushing some of her hair off of her face as he looked into her eyes.

Robin’s was biting her lower lip as she rocked herself against Cormoran, small noises of pleasure escaping her throat as her eyelids fluttered. It wasn’t until Cormoran pressed against her clit once more that her mouth flew open in a strangled, _“Oh, Cormoran!”_ He felt her come apart around him, her body shuddering above his as her orgasm rocketed through her.

Seeing her convulsing in his arms pushed Cormoran over the edge, and he came with a shout. He held her close, his fingertips pushing into her skin as he shivered and shuddered. As he came, he distantly realized that Robin had brought her hands up to his face once more and was kissing him gently. 

After what felt like an eternity and a split second simultaneously, Cormoran opened his eyes to see Robin staring at him with a loving expression on her face. She was completely soaked, the shower hitting her directly in the back of her head and spraying a halo of water around her. Cormoran lifted a hand to her face, running his thumb along her jawline.

“You’re practically drowning,” he rasped, grinning at her from the afterglow. 

“Worth it,” she responded.

Standing up, she offered a hand to Cormoran. He took it, awkwardly trying to stand up without putting too much weight on Robin. She hooked an arm under his arm, helping to heft him to his feet, and he leaned an arm against the wall once he was upright. Robin was standing with her back to the water, her head tilted back to try and tame her hair into something more manageable. Cormoran pressed a kiss to the long, white line of her neck, causing her to giggle. 

Robin leaned forward and kissed him again, right on the nose. The sentiment would have made him blush crimson if it had been anyone else, but with Robin it was sweet.

“I’m getting out. I’ll meet you on the couch?” she said.

Cormoran only had the energy to nod. He kissed her one more time before she exited the shower, letting a rush of cold air in as he pulled back the curtain. Once it was just him in the tiny space, Cormoran allowed the hot water to run over his head and down his back, thoroughly soaking him as he ran a bar of soap over his body. The amount of time that passed from Robin’s exit to his own wasn’t important to Cormoran--all that mattered was that he was once again warm, and that a beautiful woman was waiting for him.

It didn’t take long for him to get changed and find Robin on the couch. She was now wearing a pair of flannel pajamas and her hair was damp, air drying into soft waves. She had already popped a bag of popcorn and had it sitting on the couch. On the table next to his usual spot on the couch was a bottle of Doom Bar, and in her hand was a glass of white wine. He could hear the BBC on the television, its usual commercials playing in the background. 

Using his crutch, Cormoran made his way over to the couch. With a huff, he dropped into his seat and sighed. He had changed into a pair of fleece pajamas pants, his prosthetic a forgotten memory at this point, and his other foot properly encased in a warm woolen sock. Underneath the half-zip jumper that Robin insisted he wear was an old Arsenal t-shirt. 

Taking the afghan her mother had knit for them, Robin curled herself into Cormoran’s side, draping her arm across the curve of his stomach as she settled her head onto his shoulder. Instinctively, Cormoran brought his arm around her and placed his hand protectively on her hip. 

“You’re incredible, do you know that?” he said. The television was announcing its next program. _White Christmas--_ he should have known.

“I actually hear that quite often,” came Robin’s reply.

Cormoran laughed at this, giving her a squeeze. He felt her melt against him, the popcorn and wine forgotten on the other end of the couch. The Christmas tree they had purchased a few weeks back was twinkling softly in the corner of the room, its fairy lights softly illuminating the parts of the room that the television screen couldn’t reach. Cormoran took a sip from his bottle of beer, enjoying the coldness of it on his throat. On the screen, Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye were performing as two officers. He felt Robin sigh against him.

“Alright, love?” he asked her.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” she said. Her voice was small, scared. 

“I can’t make promises like that, but I’ll try my best,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” she said for what felt like the fifteenth time that night.

“I know,” was Cormoran’s response.

At that, Robin nestled in closer to Cormoran, her warmth filling his heart. He took another draught of beer, swishing it around in his mouth before swallowing it. He kissed Robin again before settling a little lower into his seat, stretching his good leg out and propping his other leg on the small ottoman that was in front of the couch.

It wasn’t long before they were both asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms while Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney fell in love.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come flail with me on tumblr! @hisreindeerjumper

**Author's Note:**

> ONTO THE SMUT!


End file.
